


Stolen Kisses

by Panic_CelestialInk



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Flirting, Fluff, Kissing, Multi, OT3, Sexual Content, Sexual Humour, Sharing a Body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-25 01:02:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10753458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Panic_CelestialInk/pseuds/Panic_CelestialInk
Summary: Lan Fan couldn’t deny that she enjoyed this: the quiet moments when the three of them were alone together.





	Stolen Kisses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lavender44](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Lavender44).



> So, Lavender44 kept gifting me with such wonderful quotes in the days preceeding my birthday, I thought I'd scribble a little Greelingfan for her. A post-confession Greelingfan.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy it.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Lan Fan concentrated on the rhythm of her breathing. Beneath her feet, the Dragon’s Pulse throbbed. Grandfather always encouraged her to remain in a meditative state when she was on guard duty. He used to state that the eyes and ears may be deceived, but the sense of qi was harder to fool. Not that she was ignoring her other senses. She could clearly see the way last rays of the sleepy sun forged golden outlines for each of the purple clouds. The sky blazed with a rich mixture of red, and deep orange. She inhaled the scent of the cherry blossoms, which an errant breeze brought from the garden into the stifling study.

 

The breeze also made the papers rustle as it moved through the room, and tugged on the robes of the room’s other occupant. She spared a glance for the Emperor—or rather, the Emperor’s body, since Greed was currently in control. He was hunched over their large desk, a stylus in hand, as he squinted at the paper in front of him.

 

“I hate this.”

 

“You wanted to Emperor. Reading reports and approving policies is part of the duties.”

 

“Hang on, the little pissant wanted to be Emperor, not me.” Then, he scowled. “All right, all right. You don’t have to rub it in.”

 

“What?”

 

“The pissant’s just reminding me that he wasn’t the only ambitious one in this body.” Greed sighed again. “Fuck, I really hate this.”

 

Lan Fan didn’t really blame the homunculus for complaining. They—Greed and the Emperor—had been sitting at the desk since the sky had just begun to blush with dawn’s light. Now, it was so late, most of the servants had already left. Indeed, Lan Fan’s qi sense told her that the only people in the nearby area were the Emperor, Greed and herself.

 

“It has to be done,” she reminded him.

 

“Yeah,” Greed said. “But, Toots,” he held up the paper and waved it at her. “This is about _manure_. You are literally making me read about shit.”

 

Lan Fan’s mouth twitched. “It can’t be that bad.”

 

“It’s measuring the amount of shit we have available to export as fertiliser.” Suddenly, Greed scowled. “Oh, shut up—not you. I was talking to Ling.”

 

Usually, those types of outbursts—from either Greed or the Emperor—had Lan Fan scolding them. When they’d returned to Xing, they’d decided that keeping Greed’s existence was vitally important. The last thing they needed was people realising that the Emperor had a philosopher’s stone in his body. Anyone who did would try to rip the stone out, and end up killing them both in the process.

 

There was no way Lan Fan would allow that to happen.

 

So, they agreed—with much moaning on Greed’s part—that, even when it was Greed’s turn to control their body, he would impersonate the Emperor. So far, no one had noticed the Emperor’s dual personality. And with a little luck, no one would.

 

But, when they were alone, or around people who knew about Greed’s existence, Lan Fan couldn’t blame them for relaxing a little.

 

“What does the Emperor say?” she asked.

 

“The Emperor,” it was the Emperor’s voice coming out of their mouth now, “Says that you must stop calling him ‘the Emperor’ when we’re alone. We’re in a relationship, now, remember?”

 

How could she forget? Almost every day she thought of that trip to Amestris, where she had finally gotten the chance to kiss them. Where they’d finally admitted their feelings for each other. It still felt like a dream, even after all this time.

 

“It’s still not appropriate for me, Your Majesty.”

 

The Emperor sighed. “Please, Lan Fan? Could you _try_? No one’s going to know if we break tradition a little.”

 

The Emperor suddenly narrowed his eyes. “I can do without the commentary, Greed.”

 

“What does Greed say?”

 

“He says we’ve smashed tradition to pieces, so we shouldn’t worry about breaking a few rules here and there.”

 

“I-I can try.”

 

“I can try, _who?”_

 

“I can try, L-Ling.” The name sent a jolt through her. He beamed.

 

“That’s great, Lan Fan. I need to ask you another favour, though. Could  you remove the mask too?”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I think you’re too beautiful to hide behind a mask.”

 

“Yeah, Toots. I miss your gorgeous face.”

 

Her cheeks heated. She swallowed hard, and carefully undid the silk ties to her mask. She’d forgone wearing her usual hooded jacket, in favour of a sleeveless tunic. The only reason she had done so was at their insistence that it was too hot to wear her usual uniform. Still, having her scarred shoulder exposed for everyone to see made her feel . . . uncomfortable. She placed the mask down on one of the piles of documents scattered about, and idly traced the Yang sign on the mask.

 

“I-is that better?”

 

“Much better, Toots, thanks. Now, we have something gorgeous to look at.”

 

She pretended not to hear him and returned to her post. He sent her a heated look, before turning back to the report. He read a few more sentences and slammed his hand on the table. He covered their fingers with the Ultimate Shield and flexed his claws.

 

“Can’t I just shred the damn thing?”

 

“No.”

 

“Come on. No one’s going to care about a report on shit!”

 

“Greed!”

 

“All right. All right. I’ll read the damn thing.”

 

He scowled at the paper, and drummed his claws on the desk.

 

“What’s the matter now?”

 

“I’m trying to convince Ling to do the work for me, but no luck. He’s refusing to come out, the lazy shit.”

 

“As far as I can see, _you’re_ the one wanting to avoid work.”

 

Greed pretended to took hurt, but returned to reading when she folded her arms. Then, a slow grin spread across their face.

 

“Hey Toots, would you come read this for a second?”

 

She gave him a wary glance. She knew that look meant mischief. But . . .

 

She walked over and peered at the report.

 

“What do you want me to—”  Greed grabbed her and jerked downwards.  She landed directly in their lap. Before she could leap up, their arm clamped around her waist.

 

“What are you doing?” she demanded, as she crushed the instinctive reaction to stab with her kunai.

 

Her cheeks were burning as she realised that their bodies were flush. She wished she had her mask on.

 

“If I have to read this boring thing, then you have to stay here and keep me company." As he spoke, the arm wrapped around her tightened its grip. The other hand reached up and started playing with the wisps of her hair.

 

“I can keep you company from over there,” she muttered.

 

He chuckled, and leant against her as he read. After a moment, she stopped struggling and relaxed. She couldn’t deny that she enjoyed this: the quiet moments when the three of them were alone together. It didn’t happen often enough—but she understood why. There were so many duties that they had as the Emperor that they couldn’t spend—

 

She gasped as Greed took her earlobe between their teeth and nibbled. She  twisted to demand what the hell he was doing, when their mouth caught hers.

 

Thinking became difficult. She placed her hands on their shoulders to push them away, but instead her fingers curled and grabbed fistfuls of their robes. He undid her hair, and ran their clawed fingers along her scalp, drawing a moan from her. Then, their hand moved along her neck, to brush against the point where her automail and flesh connected.

 

Instinctively, she flinched away.

 

“Sorry, Toots. Is the automail hurting again?” he asked, immediately moving to inspect the port.

 

“No, it’s . . . ”  How could she explain that having him touch her scars made her uncomfortable? Surely, they must find them hideous . . . repulsive.

 

She felt a shudder pass through them.  Then Ling reached out and cupped her cheek, making sure that he didn’t hurt her with the tips of his claws.

 

“You know it doesn’t bother me, right? You’re beautiful. Every part of you. Automail included.” Then he winced. “All right, would you stop?”

 

“Stop what?”

 

“Not you.” He tapped his temple. “It’s Greed, he’s—well, let’s just say he thinks the scars are _extremely_ attractive.”

 

She blushed, and looked away. Their other hand moved, so that he was drawing patterns on her ribs through her tunic. His touch was so gentle, he didn’t even cut the fabric.

 

“You know,” Ling’s voice was speculative. “Greed got a kiss . . . can I have one too?”

 

“What?”

 

“It’s only fair right?”

 

“O-okay.”

 

Ling smiled at her. He leant in, but instead of kissing her mouth, he pressed a kiss to the scar tissue on her shoulder. The brush of their lips sent heat shooting through her, and her eyelids fluttered closed. They dusted her ruined shoulder with kisses. Too soon, they pulled away and when she opened her eyes, she saw Greed was grinning at her.

 

“I-I thought you wanted one kiss?” She tried not to show how flustered their touch made her.

 

“So, we switched a few times. So what? You can’t blame the kid for exploiting the situation and, well, I’m Greed _the Avaricious_. I’m always greedy for kisses from you.”

 

***

 

“Your Majesty, are you all right?”

 

“Of course I am. Don’t worry about me. And, I thought you’d stopped calling me ‘Your Majesty’  months ago?”

 

Asking her not to worry about them—he was being ridiculous. She was the Imperial Guard. Concern over the Emperor’s well-being was part of the job—although she knew her worry stemmed from her entirely unprofessional feelings. She let her gaze travel around. The three of them were in the Imperial Library, surrounded by towering bookshelves. The Emperor was seated in front of a huge table, with maps, scrolls and dusty tomes scattered in front of him. At this time, the Imperial Library was tomb silent. Usually, she could detect the whisper of turning pages, or the crackle of fragile scrolls being unrolled.

 

But now . . . nothing. No noise, save for The Emperor’s muttering and the scratch of his stylus on the paper in front of him. Somehow, the silence gave her an eerie sense that the Library was aware of them, and the Emperor had turned the oil lamp down low, as if not to disturb the sleeping presence. She sent another glance towards him. Was she imagining it, or were their Imperial robes looser on him than usual. She cursed herself mentally. She _knew_ they hadn’t been eating properly—and it was because of this dumb Clan Meeting.

 

The Emperor—and Greed—had been working excessively hard over the past few days, in order to prepare for the annual Clan Meeting. At the meeting, representatives from each clan would meet with the Emperor, presenting him with information on their exports, and products, their needs in terms of food or infrastructure, as well as their grievances as they related to taxes, or trade or education and medical policies.

 

It required that the Emperor have a working knowledge of each clan: their history, their political and economic situation and other such details. The Emperor been trying to study for it and Greed jumped in from time to time. The preparation had taken its toll on them both.

 

“Your Majesty, perhaps you should let Greed take over for a bit?”

 

The Emperor raised an eyebrow. “You’re always complaining that Greed and I don’t keep to the schedule, and now you want to throw it out?”

 

“No!”

 

_But, you’re on the brink of collapse, and Greed, at least, can prevent that._

 

He smiled at her. “You worry too much. And Greed thinks so as well.”

 

“It’s my duty, Your Majesty.”

 

“How many times do I have to ask you to call me ‘Ling’? It’s really not that hard. I mean, we’re alone here, and—”

 

“Oi, what am I, seafood?” Greed demanded, as he stole control.

 

“Scratch that,” the Emperor snapped, regaining control of his body. “We’re alone if you don’t count the homunculus stealing my voice box occasionally.”

 

“ _Your voicebox?_ You gave it to me, you ass.”

 

“Don’t start that again, you—”

 

 Lan Fan cleared her throat. “ _Ling_ , please let me get you something to eat?”

 

“Lan Fan, I can’t. I still have to at least try to read the history of the internal conflict of the Beiphong Clan. Apparently, the two sisters had a severe fall out a few years ago and—”

 

He fell silent and cocked his head. Lan Fan waited as he silently conversed with the homunculus. Then, Ling’s eyes lit up. “In that case, sure!”

 

“What?”

 

“Greed says he’ll make pancakes for you—yes, well, I don’t care if you are just making pancakes for her . . . you’re evil, sometimes, you know that . . . shut up.”

 

“What’s the matter?”

 

“Greed says he won’t let me have any pancakes.” Ling’s expression was dangerously close to a pout.

 

Lan Fan had to duck her head to hide her smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you get some pancakes.”

 

“Really? You’re the best. And, I guess that means I can have a break.” Ling stood up and cracked their spine, and fell into step beside her as they made their way through the endless labyrinth of bookshelves.

 

It only took her a few moments to notice that Ling was swaying on his feet. Before she could insist on him resting, his legs buckled and he slammed into the floor.

 

“Ling!” she yelled.

 

She fell to her knees beside him, and rolled him onto his back, automatically checking his vital signs as Grandfather had repeatedly told her to do whenever the he collapsed.

 

But, as she leant over him to check his pulse, Ling jerked upwards and crushed their lips against hers. Heat seared her veins. Then, she pulled away, her hand flying to her mouth. He flopped back to the ground, with a wide smile on his face.

 

“Looks like  . . . I got a kiss,” he murmured.

 

She blinked a few times. Then, she snatched the front of his robes and shook him hard.

 

“Are you turning this into a _joke_?” she growled.

 

“Erm . . .”

 

She snarled something unintelligible, and surged to her feet, lifting their limp body with her. She flung them over her shoulder, ignoring their weak protests and marched through the rows of shelves. Her eyes darted about as she searched. Then, she spotted it—a tiny gap between two bookshelves. She shrugged the Emperor’s body off her shoulder and stuffed them in the tight gap, using more force than was actually necessary.

 

“If you’ll excuse me, _Your Majesty_ , I’m going to get you some food.”

 

She executed a sharp bow, spun on her heel and marched away, towards one of the exits. She knew that she was near one of the emergency ration packs she’d stored throughout the Imperial Palace—for precisely situations like this.

 

_Though, I don’t always feel like throwing the food at him. Them. Whatever._

 

She could hear Ling’s voice getting weaker, and suddenly she heard swearing behind her. Then, there was the loud sound of wood splintering.

 

“Toots, hold up!”

 

Lan Fan paused as Greed caught up to her. She stood at attention, and kept her face blank. He looked a bit bedraggled—the Imperial robes were torn, and there were splinters of wood caught in their hair.

 

“Look, Toots, Ling says he’s sorry and—”

 

“I don’t want to speak to either of you right now.”

 

“ _What?!_ I didn’t do anything!”

 

“You didn’t stop him.”

 

“Can you blame me for wanting a kiss?” She glared at them. Greed sighed. “Toots, I really think you’re over-reacting. It was only one kiss, and—”

 

“It’s not about the kiss!” she snapped. “You turned the collapse into a joke.”

 

“Well, that was Ling and I’m—”

 

“I’m talking to Ling!” she snarled.  “Do you have any idea how much I worry about you collapsing? Or worse, you getting hurt? Or assassinated?”

 

Greed snickered, and Lan Fan came close—oh so close—to punching them in the jaw. “And you’re no better. I saw Father kill you! You disintegrated in front of us. And, I’ve seen both of you be shot, and cut and stabbed and—I-I can’t take your well-being as a joke.” Her eyes stung. “I can’t.”

 

Their magenta eyes bored into her. Then, Greed closed the gap between them, and pulled her close. She automatically reached for her kunai, but stopped when he said   “Ling still has nightmares about the day you lost your arm. They’re very vivid. We feel the blood gushing down our shoulders, and we can hear that dumb mutt whining as we try to catch it to-to tie your arm to it. The little pissant almost wakes up screaming each time. So, I guess he understands why you worry so much. He’s pretty pathetic about it and—” he chocked, and she felt their body shuddering against her as Ling tried to take control.

 

“Damnit, you little pest, will you shut up? I’m trying to fix _your_ mess,” Greed snarled.

 

“What does Ling say?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

She leant away, and raised an eyebrow at him.

 

“All right, all right. I hate it when the two of you gang up on me.” He sighed. “The little pissant wants me to tell you that I worry about you too. Happy now—not you. I was talking to Ling.” He pulled her close, and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

 

She released her grip on the kunai, and enjoyed the warm feeling of their arms around her.

 

Then, Greed chuckled. “I gotta ask, Toots. Why the hell did you stuff us in a bookshelf?”

 

“It was technically between two bookshelves.”

 

“Come on, Toots. What about all this sexiness.” He pointed to themselves, “made you think ‘book’.”

 

She snorted. “Books can be sexy.”

 

“ _Oh?”_ His eyes lit up “What kinky books have you been reading, Toots?”

 

She felt herself turning red, and he laughed.

 

“So, how about those pancakes? Ling said he’s sorry. He asks if he can come out, after we’ve had something to eat.” Greed snorted suddenly. “He says that if you’re still mad at him, you can punch him. And I’ll make sure that he doesn’t cheat and use my Ultimate Shield.”

 

Lan Fan’s mouth twitched. “I’d appreciate that.”

 

***

 

Lan Fan felt her heart clench as she stared around the room. Empty. Utterly empty. Oh the furniture was there, and everything was in place, from the jade statutes dotted about the room, to the tapestries dangling against the wall. But the Emperor wasn’t in their chambers. She forced herself not to panic, as she realised his Dao sword was missing as well. There was no sign of a struggle—they had to be around here somewhere. She stopped moving, and focused. She slowed her breathing. Her heartbeat. Her mind.

 

The Dragon’s Pulse hummed, and her awareness of qi unfurled around her. She could sense the qis of the people inside the Imperial Palace—warm and bright like the flames of candles. Then, she moved her senses outwards, across the grounds, through the wing of the palace that Mei used as her cat sanctuary, towards the blisteringly hot, rancid mass of qi that now belonged to the Emperor’s body. The Emperor—or Greed, if the homunculus was in control—was down in the training grounds. She leapt for the window and vaulted out. She landed lightly on the roof, and raced across the rooftops, leaping easily over the gaps that divided the buildings. She made no sound as she moved like a wraith over the ceramic tiles on the roofs.

 

It took her only a few moments to reach the wall of the inner compound. She could sense the guards patrolling, but they were a distance away. She made a mental  note to scold them for their lax patrolling, as she dropped down over the wall and landed in a crouch. She straightened and made her way over to the training grounds.

 

At this time of the morning, the training grounds were deserted. But, she could see signs of both Ling’s and Greed’s practices. The wooden practice dummies had been reduced to splinters and bore signs of both sword cuts and claw marks. The sand had been messed up, and the rope circle was completely misshapen. Still, the Emperor wasn’t there. But, she could sense the seething qi emanating from inside one of the nearby buildings. She breathed a sigh of relief—and froze as she processed what else her senses were telling her. The building was the Imperial bathhouse. And, on a bench on the outside of the building were the Emperor’s clothes. There was no mistaking the fine quality of the gold and purple robe. Nor the gleaming Dao sword lying atop it—and she decided that she would have to remind Ling, again, that he needed to keep his sword in a proper sheath between practices.   

 

Her lungs clenched.  Her mouth went dry.

 

_Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t you dare go look._

 

Too late. Her traitorous feet had already carried her across the practice arena. She could hear sounds coming from inside: splashing and loud, raucous singing—in different voices, as the two of them apparently agreed to a duet.

 

_The day rolls in, the night rolls out_

_Desire rules without a doubt_

_The heart beats fast, you salivate_

_And when you come it won't be late  . . ._

 

She slid the screen back. The bathhouse was as impressive as it usually was. Whoever had designed it had an eye for detail—each of the tiles on the floor and walls was hand painted, and there was a huge mural on the one wall. It depicted a Xingese sailboat ploughing through a massive wave. The painting was so lifelike— she could almost see the water churning, and the sails shifting to catch the breeze. Other details in the room caught her eye: the copper pipes that gleamed in the early morning light, and brought freshly boiled water directly to the massive bath in the centre of the room; the tendrils of steam that wound their way through the air and the fluffy towels piled against the wall.

 

But, she stopped paying attention to any of it when she saw Ling—or Greed, she wasn’t sure who was in control—leaning against the far side of the bath, apparently oblivious to her presence. Her hungry eyes gorged themselves on the Emperor’s body. It was perfect. They were perfect. Water streamed over their skin, highlighting the definition in their chest and arms. Their dark hair clung to them, and made swirling patterns on their neck and shoulders. She could see their muscles rippling beneath the skin and she could see the perfect “v” of muscles that lead down to—

 

She jerked away, her face aflame. Her pulse thundered in her ears and she pressed her forehead to the screen. Years. She’d imagined seeing them like that for _years_. She wanted them so badly, but she’d never quite been able to take that last step. Maybe because of that dark little voice in her head that hissed that she wasn’t worthy of them. That they deserved someone better than her. Someone who wasn’t _excess baggage._

 

Then, she heard their voices again.

 

_Yeah when the night comes_

_Every body's gotta have flesh_

_You got me all soakin' wet_

_Flesh - the only thing that's worth the sweat . . ._

 

Her uniform, usually so comfortable, was suddenly throttling her. She clenched her fist, and swallowed hard. Then, she carefully removed her mask, and placed it alongside the Emperor’s clothes.  In a few moments, she’d shed her uniform as well. She padded into the room on silent feet and slipped into the water with them.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to make this a fic where Greed starts the kissing, then Ling does, and finally, Lan Fan takes the last step. I hope I wasn't too explicit in my descriptions.
> 
> And I hope that you liked your present, Lavender44.
> 
> As always, I'd love to know what people think.


End file.
